Not The Greatest Loss
by Grammar Junkie
Summary: Taichi and Yamato are forced to carry on when fate strips them of nearly everything. WARNING: deals with character death and yoai/lemon overtones (no actual lemon, though)


Not the Greatest Loss

**A Note from the Author:** Konnichiwa, minna-san! I thought I'd include a small note, seeing as how this is my first fic posted on FF.net, and I love to mark occasions with silly speeches. 

This is my first digimon fanfic I've ever written, and it was mostly contributed to the fact that my cousin kept sending me her damned Taito fanarts (lord lover her, but she clogged my inbox!). I'm not very familiar with the characters, as I don't watch the show very often. I hope I did them justice. 

Reviews would be appreciated, both negative and positive so long as they're constructive. Thanks for bearing with me, I'll let you get to the fic!

**Not the Greatest Loss**

His figure was silhouetted against the evening sky. Standing motionless before the window he seemed like an angel descended from heaven to stand on the earth for but a moment. It was hard to believe that he was mine. 

"You're thinking of him again, aren't you?" I asked. He turned to face me, startled. 

"Hai," he murmured, looking away from me. "I can't help it."

My eyes followed his gaze to the spot in the garden where a small statue of two graven angels, clinging to each other, stood. It cast a ghastly shadow in the dying light of the sun: that of a long-fingered hand reaching out as if to strangle the flowers that grew nearby.

A chill ran down my spine as darkness overtook the garden. I reached out and gently brushed a strand of hair from his eyes. 

"It's getting late," I said, brushing his temple with my lips. "Are you coming to bed?"

"Just a little while longer," he said. He squeezed my hand and placed a tender kiss against the corner of my mouth. 

"Ai shiteiru, Yamato." 

My lover was too immersed in his thoughts to hear me.

I left him then and moved down the hall, distracted by my own memories . . . 

----

"Oni-chan!" she shrieked. Her eyes were filled with fear and pain. "Onegai, tasukete!"

I stared at her, no feeling in me at all. Rain struck my face as I looked up at the balcony where she stood, great clouds of smoke curling up above her. 

"Hikari!" I heard Takeru's voice from behind her, somewhere in the apartment. "Hikari, where are you?"

My sister half-turned to look back into the flames. "Ta—Takeru-chan?" She ducked her head, shielded her face, and ran back into the inferno that had been our home. 

Only then was I able to shout to her, and run closer to the building. "Hikari!" I yelled, craning my neck back to look at the balcony. My final memory of my sister, Hikari, was of her disappearing into a cloud of smoke.

I watched and waited as more and more people gathered around. Five minutes went by and no one was able to get in or out of the complex. A sick feeling was building in my stomach, one that told me that I would never see her again. I was afraid to believe it, but couldn't help but know otherwise. 

Ten minutes passed and still nothing happened. Attempts at extinguishing the fire were in vain, it raged on despite the immense amount of water sprayed at it. 

I heard the squeal of tires in the back of my mind and a moment later felt someone shove me from behind. 

"Kisama!" He scowled at me, raising his arm to strike me again. "What're you doing just standing here? Do something!" His hand was stilled by the sound of a collapsing ceiling support. His face went ghastly white. "Takeru!" He screamed, running toward the building. "Oni-chan, sanyuu!" 

"Ishida-san?" I stammered, dumbfounded, as he pushed his way toward the door. I realized only too late what he was doing. "Shimatta." I hissed, pulling myself to my feet and running after him. "Ishida no baka, he'll get himself killed."

It was hot in the complex, hot and dark. Thick black smoke was everywhere and it was difficult to breathe, running after the sound of Ishida Yamato's pounding footsteps and his frantic cries. I called after him, but he either couldn't hear me, or chose to ignore me. 

I followed him up six flights of stairs and down the hall to my family's apartment. "Ishida-san!" I shouted, overtaking him as he reached the door. He raised his foot to kick the door in, but it swung open before he could do so and Ishida Takeru crumpled to the floor.

A glimmer of hope rose in my heart when I saw my sister's sweetheart stumble from the apartment, I peered through the door expecting to see Hikari right behind him, but I saw nothing but flames, smoke and rubble.

I looked down a Takeru, a mixture of horror and anger and sorrow growing inside me. "Where's Hikari?" 

Yamato had gathered his brother in his arms. He scowled at me for demanding such things. I didn't care. 

I bent down and grabbed Takeru's collar. Pulling his face close to mine, I made sure that he heard me. "Where is my sister?"

Takeru coughed, looking up at me with weary eyes. "She was crying," he whispered, hoarse and weak. "She couldn't get out from under the weight . . . I tried to move it, but I couldn't . . . I tried, Taichi-san, I really did . . ."

I couldn't speak. I could barely breathe. "Hikari . . ."

"Oni-chan?" Yamato was holding his brother close. "Oni-chan, you have to get up now, we have you go."

"G—Gomen nasai, Yamato . . ." Takeru stammered. "I don't think I can."

"Yes you can, Takeru, I'll help you stand."

"Gomen, Oni-chan . . ." He coughed. "Sa—sayonara, Yamato."

I heard the breath catch in Yamato's throat. "Ta-Takeru? Takeru?" I watched him shake his brother, before folding Takeru's body in a tight embrace. "Onegai, Takeru, don't die . . . Onegai, oni-chan!"

"Ishida-san," I said. "Ishida-san we have to go." I placed a hand on his arm. "Ishida-san . . ." 

"Yagami-san, wake him up . . ." He held Takeru up, as if offering the boy to me. 

I shook my head. "Yamato, I can't . . . He won't wake up."

"Onegai, Taichi, wake him up for me, I know you can." His eyes shone with tears, sparkling red over his blue eyes. "I'm afraid to be without him . . . I'm afraid to be alone."

"Gomen, Yamato, gomen nasai, but I don't know how."

Yamato closed his eyes, a single tear escaping from beneath the cover of his eyelids and trailing down his cheek. I brushed it away, cradling his face with my hand. 

"Yamato, we have to go now." He nodded, laying his brother's body down as carefully as he could before rising to his feet. He never met my gaze, was forever looking downward, but I took his hand and squeezed it. I led him out of the building, never releasing his hand. 

He wept when we burst out into the bright sunlight, and I held him while I watched the building begin to collapse. "Sayonara, Hikari," I whispered leading Yamato toward his car. 

----

"Hi."

I was reading when he came into the room. "Hi." I grinned, watching the muscles shift underneath his skin as he moved. 

He crawled next to me wearing only his boxers and ran his fingers through my hair. "You look so sophisticated with your glasses on, Taichi. You should wear them more often."

I blushed, closing my book. "I only need them for reading, Yama-chan, and besides, they make me look like a dork." 

"No they don't." He kissed my cheek. "They make you look smart; sexy."

I laughed and took off the black-rimmed frames, setting them on the bedside table atop my book. "Hey, don't forget, Yama-chan, that you're the sexy one. I'm just along for the scenery."

"Is that all I mean to you, then?" He pulled away a tiny bit. He didn't seem hurt, merely curious.

"Of course not, Yamato. You're everything to me. Don't you know that?" He avoided my eyes. "I wouldn't care is you were hideous, Yamato, your soul is more beautiful than anything I've seen."

His lip was trembling, and I could tell that tears were swelling on the ledge of his eyelashes. I crooked a finger below his chin, tilting it upwards so that I could see into his now glittering eyes. 

"Why don't you believe me when I tell you that?"

"I'm afraid . . ." he murmured, trying to keep his eyes anywhere but on me. 

"Don't be afraid, I'll never leave you. I'll never let you be alone again, I swear." I wanted to kiss him and make those horrible tears vanish, make him delirious with pleasure . . . make him anything but afraid.

"I—Tai, I'm not afraid of that . . . I'm afraid of what I've become."

"Nani?" I stammered, confused. "Yamato, what are you talking about?"

"I—nevermind, Tai. If you'll hold me, I'm sure it won't frighten me anymore." His eyes, forever their brilliant blue, pleaded with me in desperation. "Taichi, would you—could you hold me?"

"I'll do whatever you want me to, Yamato, anything for you."

"Then hold me, and make me forget the things I fear. Make me forget that night."

"Was it really that horrible?" I asked, trying to be tender.

He smiled, wiping at an eye. "Not that part, baka, you know what I mean."

I grinned, glad that I had made him smile. Leaning forward, I planted my lips against his, wrapping my arms around him, trying to touch as much of his divine body as I could. I never wanted to let him go, never wanted to stop feeling his skin against mine, never wanted to be without someone I could love . . . could be loved by.

My tongue swept the interior of his mouth, hot and wet and spicy, as it had been that first night. My mouth crooked into an odd smile (it is very difficult to smile when one's tongue is exploring the mouth of another, you know). 

----

Our first night together was not one forged out of mutual joy, desire, or longing. It was one weakly stumbled upon seeking solace from our mutual sorrow. 

I drove him home to his apartment and, since we had both watched mine burn to the ground earlier that afternoon, he invited me to stay the night. It was hospitality and nothing more. 

That's what I'd assumed at least. Perhaps I was right, that Ishida Yamato's intentions had been firmly set from the moment he invited me in. But perhaps I was wrong and that what happened afterward was a strange twist of fate; spontaneity at it's most dangerous. 

In all honesty, I had never given Ishida Yamato much thought, romantically speaking. I'd never even considered that he might be gay. So when he turned to me halfway through the evening, breaking the silence that had hung over us for hours, his request was the last thing I had expected to hear. 

It all spilled out in a stammering flood over his chapped pink lips. "Yagami-san, I know it's unfair to proposition you like this since I don't even know if you . . . well, I know that you're—uhm—well . . . I know what Takeru told me was common knowledge about you, but I don't know if you'd . . . Lord! I'd never put you in such a position otherwise, but given the circumstances we're both in and the fact that you're going to be spending the night any_way, I thought maybe . . . if you're weren't completely disgusted by me for wanting . . . that maybe you'd--." His face changed a bright red, and I felt mine flush as well. He stared at his hands, refusing to look at me, utterly ashamed. _

"That maybe I'd what?" I managed to stutter, trying not to sound reluctant, since that would do more harm than good. 

"That maybe you'd—" He squeezed his eyes shut. "That maybe you wouldn't mind holding me, just for one night, so I can feel something other than this aching sadness." 

I didn't answer immediately, too shocked to think. He took it the wrong way.

"I'm sorry, Yagami-san, I shouldn't have asked. I knew you'd never . . . you probably think I'm sick now, wanting that_ after watching my brother . . ."_

I reached out and placed a hand over his clenched ones. "I never said that, Yamato." The use of his name brought his eyes to meet mine. I could see that there were tears there. 

"N—nani?"

"I don't think you're sick, and I'm not disgusted by you . . ." I rose and moved beside him, placing an arm around his shoulders. "I think you're rather handsome."

He coughed, though it seemed to me like a weak attempt at a laugh. Tears slipped down his cheek. 

"Now that I get to look at you from this distance, I can see that you're really quite exquisite . . . even when you cry." I brushed a tear from his face and kissed him on the lips. "I don't know why I never noticed before."

He didn't speak, but he reached up with a shaking hand to touch my face and pull me into another kiss. 

I let my tongue wander across his lower lip, teasing it gently, trying to gain access to the warm cavern of his mouth. His taste was sharp, like cinnamon or chai tea. His tongue moved against mine without much direction to it. We were both unsure of ourselves, but found comfort in it nonetheless. I moved my mouth to kiss below his ear, then lower, to his collar. 

I pushed him backwards, tugging at his shirt, wanting to forget my own pain, wanting to lose myself in him, even if it couldn never endure . . . 

We slept on the couch together. I took him for the first time on that couch, I thought it would be the last and couldn't help but feel a sad sort of loss knowing I'd only have him for a night. 

That night was cold and the feeling of it was an unhappy one; two men thrown together on a last resort, trying to salvage something of the boys they had been, on the night they lost almost everything. 

----

I wanted to recreate our first night together. I didn't understand why, that night was full of sorrow and melancholy but somehow . . . somehow I wanted to relive the comfort I found in him. I was trying to regain something I'd lost.

I never understood it before, but now I realize that Death is not the greatest loss. The greatest loss is what dies within us when we live. 

Something died within me without my noticing it. I'm missing something, something I don't think I'll ever be able to find. Hikari took that part of me with her when she left me and I want it back . . . I want her back. 

It's impossible for me to get what I want, I understand that and I can live with it. I'll live with it for Yamato. I have to do it for him because it's all that I have to offer him. 

It's all I have left to give.


End file.
